Souls Never Die
by TitansintheTARDIS
Summary: At first it only took a few pills to stop the pounding in his head. After a while it didn't matter how strong the meds or how often he took them. Soon nothing could stop the room from spinning. Everything crumbled from then on. Being in such a state had been hard enough. How was he supposed to handle it all when his main source of support disappeared without a trace?
1. prologue

This was an English assignment inspired by and for my friend Victoria that I was going to post as a one-shot but decided to turn it into a full story. I figured I would use the assignment as a prologue of sorts.

Also: this will most likely be the first in a series (more info will be posted in the next chapter or so, after i iron out the details)

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_**Prologue**_

Once upon a time things mattered. Things made sense. However, some things are unpredictable. Some things don't make sense. I don't understand why people do the things they do. Humanity is a mystery one can never unravel as no mystery can solve itself. But why does this matter, in the grand scheme of things, why do any of my petty thoughts matter? They don't. Once upon a time they did. Once upon a time, it all mattered.

Five weeks ago, my entire life took a tailspin. It was like a normal day, except it wasn't. I had returned home and my roommate was missing, you were missing. You were never home later than I was, not without my knowledge. I figured it had slipped your mind. That happens a lot. Sometimes I wonder where your brain goes.

Four weeks ago, I had started to worry. No one had seen you. My best friend, you were officially missing.

Three weeks ago, was the most hopeful. I had always been positive. Now my hope was the only thing keeping the panic at bay.

Two weeks ago, I don't really remember that. So many questions and so few answers but nothing was worse than the waiting. I don't really remember that either. I had been so occupied.

One week ago, I don't remember that either. I had given up. There was no trace of you anywhere. I drowned my sorrows. What little hope drained away as everyone stopped looking. The trail was cold and so was my life.

It seems like a lifetime ago yet seems like it happened yesterday. It's funny how time works, sitting here alone. It has been forever since I've seen the sun though it was out a few hours ago. Time works differently here. Time works differently for me, for me and only me. Here I wonder why this is. Why must this be? I'm cast under a shadow. I'm lost an abyss. Do you remember me? I remember…

_We sit in the living room, setting up the furniture that we probably should have paid extra to have put together because we had no idea what we were doing. Fresh out of college and completely oblivious to the world we had decided to get an apartment together. It was cheaper and convenient, plus we had been friends since birth, it was better than finding separate roommates was. After we decided the furniture was a lost cause, we decided to look through boxes. Why did we decide to look through boxes? We found an old scrapbook my mother had made for senior year. It only made sense to flip through it. First, we came across a picture of us as little kids. I couldn't help but laugh._

_I remember sitting by a pond, staring at my reflection. I remember my friend wondering where I am. We had been young, five maybe six at the time. I don't remember why I ran. It was a joke. My parents had been shopping in the market. You had been there too. We had laughed and ran as children often do. We lost our parents somewhere along the way. I had been scared but you were fine. I didn't know where to go so I ran. I ran to the pond. I was staring at my reflection when you found me. You dragged my parents all the way there to find me. And, while I would never tell, I know you were scared the most. You were an older brother to me. We were connected at the hip after that and I will never forget._

Memories, all these memories, they surround me. I feel as if I could touch them. They flash before my eyes but I see them as if they were tiny moments floating around the room. I feel as though I could grab each and hold it, even if only for a second. Suddenly I'm overcome with a feeling of pride. A feeling that reminds me of that day at the pond, the day you promised we'd always be friends. It's a feeling that I'll never forget as my life fades out. I'm dying.

I don't know how I came to the decision or why I did. I had no way of filling a hole, so I made another. Let's face the facts: it'll never matter. I have no reason to care. I was dead anyway.

A few days later a felt a shiver, locked in here. They say souls never die but they never know where they go. Mine didn't go anywhere; I'm still in this bed. I'm still in this blank white room. It has been two years since but it still feels as icy cold. I hear a knock at the door, I wonder if it's you. I laugh to myself in pity as I always do. Surely enough, the door opens up and a face I have long since missed shows through the door, but it's not as I remember. Its features are cold and its skin transparent and suddenly I realize. I'm not alone. We died for each other, though neither knows why. He fades away again, but this time so do I.


	2. Deception

chapter 1! this is probably complete crap as I am having a little trouble with their personalities as i am not used to writing with them.  
this chapter also came out kind of short because I didn't want to have everything happen all at once but didn't want to bore you with filler. This is the result.

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**_Chapter 1: Deception_**

(Jean's pov)

I awaken to an unusual peacefulness for a weekday morning. I bask in it for a moment before realizing it's rarely ever this peaceful, especially at this time of day. At first, I figure Marco slept in. Something I highly doubt. He always rises with the sun yet he usually doesn't find himself asleep until long after it has set; yet, always manages to wake me up with the sounds and smells of breakfast cooking, usually long before I actually bother to get out of bed. Unlike him, I don't find it necessary to get up at the crack of dawn. Looking over to where Marco should be I find a completely unused side of the bed. With that in mind, I decide it would be best to investigate. Finally, after a few lazy minutes, I actually rolled out of bed and got up.

Sure enough, I wasn't ten feet from my room when I found the reason for the serenity that seemed to plague the apartment. There he was, on the sofa, sound asleep surrounded by books and papers. Exams, I forgot he had exams coming up. I couldn't help but laugh. All year Marco has had one main priority: school. He's passing everything with flying colors. I figured he would. He wants to get some advanced degree in some particularly boring subject. I don't remember what he is studying. Something boring, that's all I remember. He has tried to explain it to me time and time again but I have no interest. I try to pretend, for his sake, but it usually sounds like he is speaking some foreign language. To accomplish his goal, Marco spends most of his time doing schoolwork, much to my dismay. Even balls of energy like him need sleep. No one can expect to run on fumes and not succumb to exhaustion eventually. I think that is something he just discovered. He is such an idiot sometimes.

I have to take a moment to smile at the scene that lies before me. The poor boy's legs twisted oddly and his body positioned itself at angles that can't be all that comfortable. A book seems to be peeking out from beneath the decorative pillow he was using to sleep on. Normally, that would make the already unsupportive pillow less comfortable. It didn't matter, though, as there is one arm positioned under his head to support it. The other arm lay, crossing over the one supporting his head, hiding his face somewhat. Seemingly, he's trying to avoid the mountains of work scattered about while asleep. He will definitely regret that when he wakes up. It's too late to do anything about it now. I find my way through the mess where I swear there is a coffee table and grab the blanket from the back off the couch. I try to make him more comfortable, though it's a fruitless effort. I guess I'm just cheesy like that. Either way, I can't help but allow the smirk on my face to turn into a full grin when I hear the adorable and child-like sound that emits softly from him as he adjusts his body to take in the warmth of the blanket.

With the shake of my head, I walk back to my room to get dressed since I will have to go pick up something to eat. Normally, I would wake his sorry ass up because I'm hungry and I can't cook for shit. However, I am making an exception because Marco needs sleep and I need food. I can only wish that he would actually take the time to sleep. I wouldn't hold my breath though. Odds are he'll have his head in those books by time I get back. If I can say one thing about him, it's that he keeps going with a smile on his face, no matter what. That kid is too damn happy.

Sometime around noon, I decided I would head to the coffee shop a few blocks away. It's more expensive than the one right besides our building but it has Marco's favorite pastries and I kind of need the brownie points right now.

He's so focused on school and so doing things like buying his favorite pastries outweighs the snappy comments. What can I say? It's as if I'm living by myself lately and it pisses me off. More importantly, he hasn't been well. He thinks he hides it but he can't. It's as if he thinks I don't notice. He is always flinching at every loud sound but acts like he doesn't. Hell, he even looks sick. I've asked him about it a few times but he waves it off. It's not a big deal anyway. He probably caught a cold. With the amount of work he has been doing lately, his immune system is going to be weaker than usual. I think I read that in one of his biology books or something. After I grab two cups of coffee, (though I am kind of hoping he will sleep long enough for it to get cold) and our pastries I head back to the apartment.

(Marco's pov)

I woke later than usual to the sound of the front door slam. I was still groggy from sleep, which made it hard to read the time. The pounding headache wasn't helping either. Twelve, I had slept until noon according to my watch. I never sleep this late. Carefully maneuvering around the books and notes scattered about, I stretched the muscles that were obviously not too fond of the way I slept. I attempted to move from the couch and the room started to spin. I had just heard Jean leave, probably to get himself something to eat, I'll bet. He can't cook, period; there is no way to contradict that fact. Therefore, instead of waking me, the dork goes to spend his money on something I probably could have whipped up for him. In this case, it was even worse of an idea. I could barely function and I felt like I would pass out from dizziness.

Shockingly, I managed to trek through my apartment to the bathroom with the world spinning and nausea churning my stomach. This wasn't the first time. These headaches seem to be harder and harder to get rid of. I've tried just about everything. I pop a few of the strongest migraine pills I have managed to get my hands on along with some regular painkillers into my mouth. I don't bother with water; I'm probably going to vomit anyway. I lean against the sink with my eyes squeezed shut, praying to whatever's out there for this to pass, and after a few moments I get my wish. All that remains is a dull throbbing that will go away with enough water and caffeine. I grab the bottle of water kept near the sink for this exact purpose. After I guzzle the entire plastic bottle full, I turn on the sink to clean myself up a little. The lack of sleep and feeling absolutely disgusting has not helped my appearance. Blinking a few times to clear the remainder of sleep from my eyes, I start to walk out of the room when I hear the front door open. I walk out to find Jean looking at me questioningly. His only statement being: "You really can't sleep for more than a few hours, can you?" I shrug. "I figured as much so I brought you some stuff too." He handed me the cup of coffee, which instantly piqued my interest, my attention now diverted from the pounding in my head.

"Why did you choose this place?" I raised an eyebrow. The cup was from my favorite place not too far from here, a place that charges an extra few dollars for everything than the shop across the street. He was trying to bribe me for something. "I figured you would want this." He gave as way of explanation as he handed me a lemon square, my absolute favorite from there. It's official. Jean wants something.

"Okay, spill." I demand. "What do you want?"

"Why do you assume I want something?" He said putting his hand to his chest in fake hurt. The smirk on his face that quickly replaces his momentary expression makes it obvious he knows exactly why. I respond with only a pointed look, and then sigh.

"Fine…" He says dryly. "Cut right to the chase then. When are you going to stop lying?" That had caught me completely off guard.

"Lying about what?" I ask dumbly

It's his turn to sigh as he places his coffee on a now cleared spot on the table. "You look like shit, dude, that's putting it nicely." The implications behind his words are quite obvious.

I can go two ways with this. I could tell him straight out. Then, he'd be beyond angry. Despite what he may seem, Jean is really protective of people when it comes to these things, me primarily. It doesn't help I have a tendency to lie about these things. I always want everyone to stay as positive as I am. I could lie. I don't like lying though. It's hard to keep everyone's spirits up if they can't believe a word that comes out of your mouth. Not to mention, I'm a horrible liar. Weighing my options, I take a deep breath. Matching the smirk I had received moments earlier, I reply

"I don't know what you're talking about? I feel fine, tired as all hell maybe, but fine." As I plop down on the sofa once again and pick up a book. This time, unlike the others, he doesn't drop the subject.

"Bullshit" is his simple reply. "But, you're a grown man so just take care of your damn self."

"If there's a problem I will." With one last shake of his head and roll of the eyes, he leaves me in peace once again.

No longer distracted, I feel the pain creep back to my head full force. Maybe Jean's right. I think there is something wrong.

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Once again, any feedback is appreciated because I have no idea what I am doing. This is my first time with this writing style and the personalities are completely foreign to me.


	3. Damaged

this chapter is almost double the last one :)  
This entire chapter was also not planned at all. Nothing in it was originally part of the plot. It was not supposed to be here. I like it though.

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_**Chapter 2: Damaged**_

(Marco)

I've been typing for hours, it seems, yet nothing comes across the way I would like it too. I'm usually good with words therefore this should have been a walk in the park for me. It's torture. A 6,000-word essay that's due tomorrow and I'm starting over. Again. What kind of professor gives you a weekend for an essay like that? My coffee had run cold hours ago and the steady pounding in my head is slowly making me go insane. To top it all off, I have no idea what to do for my essay. This is the fifth time I have changed the topic with the hope of inspiration. I would try to bounce some ideas off Jean but I haven't seen him since our conversation earlier. He's probably sulking in our room watching TV like always. He's been sort of annoyed with me lately, not that I blame him.

Honestly, I've been a total ass. I haven't actually been spending all that much time studying and doing work, thus the 6,000-word essay I just started today. I also never said that I _was_ spending that much time. Jean went and assumed. I just kind of took the excuse. It's nothing against him; I just like the peace, especially with how I've been feeling lately. Jean turns into a fucking mother hen when it comes to that matter, which is one of the reasons things are so rocky between us right now. We have known each other for as long as I could possibly remember. He and I have been through a hell of a lot and all but sometimes, I prefer to be on my own. Not to say Jean doesn't, but I'm at school 90% of my time. Most of that time he spends at work but the rest he gets the apartment to himself. The other 10% we spend together.

Why lie? That's what you are probably thinking right now. Why not just be honest with him? You don't understand. Jean can be very superficial in many ways but he takes things like that to heart. Learned that the hard way in ninth grade. It's funny how memories just pop up out of nowhere like that.

_One time in high school, with his persistent encouragement to do so, I joined the debate team. (I did say I'm excellent with words, on and off paper.) He kept saying that, with how passionate and persuasive I can be, I would be perfect. It was amazing. I had made a lot of friends and this is before we were actually, you know, together so I didn't think he'd mind all too much. He had friends of his own that he could spend time with. Jean was always kind of popular, being the rich kid and all. Not thinking much of it, I started to see less and less of him. When I finally hadn't spoken to him in a week, I was concerned. The only response I got to my questioning was a sarcastic "Hmm, I don't know, why don't you take another week to figure it out." True to his word, he avoided me for a whole week. Finally, I was able to talk to him _

"_What the hell is your problem, lately?" I asked quietly, though quite irritated by his child-like antics. Seriously, avoiding me for a week over nothing was really dumb._

"_I told you to join the debate team, not ditch me completely! Dude, you skipped Movie Monday for a party. You didn't even bother to tell me!" Movie Monday had been a tradition with us since we were old enough to sit through a whole movie without getting bored. We would go sit in Jean's enormous home theater with popcorn and candy from when school ended until we became too tired to pay attention to anything anymore. We would always fight over movie choices and who ate all the candy. It's still stuck to this day, though if I'm honest it has gotten a lot more interesting… if you catch my drift._

"_Right, because you have __**never**__ ditched me to go to some stupid party before!" I took a deep breath. "Seriously, why are we even, god you're so dramatic!" Neither of us were very rational. Both of us were stressed out for our own reasons that don't really matter, stupid high school stuff. _

"_Yeah, maybe I am being ridiculous, okay. I just…" _I miss you_ that's what I heard._

"_Look, I've always been encouraging you to live to your full potential. I stick with you through everything! __**Everything**__. I go and make some friends and your acting worse than Mikasa does when you and Eren get in a fight." I couldn't help but smile at such a thought. We would always laugh at her mother-hen-like attitude. It seemed he thought the same thing. _

"_You're right." He said simply. But you know what would be even __**more**__ ridiculous?" I hadn't realized he was closing the distance between us until he was right in front of me, my back against the wall. "This" He kissed me. That beautiful jerk went and kissed me. It would have been chick-flick level romantic too. If it weren't for the fact that it got really awkward after that._

"_We just…" I sputtered. His face was beet red, as I imagine mine was. More importantly, I don't think he put any thought into his action. If his reaction was anything to go by._

_We had stared at each other for the longest, most nerve-racking moment in my entire life up to that point. "Jealousy makes you do weird things I guess." He had said simply. __**Jealousy**__. It had racked around in my brain for days._

"_Jealousy? First, you kissed me and you just admitted you were jealous. Who the hell are you?" I had asked half jokingly. "Your boyfriend?"That smooth motherfucker. I never gave a response. I simply pulled him back toward me. _

Returning to reality, I now can't wipe the smile off my face. That's the story of how we got together. The first time. Things were really confusing, okay. So, yeah, he is such a drama queen sometimes. Now back to the problem at hand. All this reminiscing is keeping me from my essay. As is my stomach apparently. I am starving! Since I'm probably going to need to ask Jean for help anyway, I decide to see what he wants to do for dinner. I remove my ear buds and place my laptop back on the coffee table before getting up. The entire room spun for a second before I managed to blink away the dizziness. Not even bothering to knock on the door (it's my room too) I walk straight in. What I find is… unexpected?

The entire room was a complete disaster. Clothes strewn in every direction, the sheets torn off the bed, and the bed side lamp appeared as if thrown against a wall as did the remote for the TV and some other small things. Among the mess, with his eyes red and puffy, Jean sits curled up with his arms around his knees and his head resting on top of them. How had I not heard any of this, just a room over? What the hell happened?

I don't think he heard me walk in, even if he did, he didn't acknowledge my presence. "Jean?" I say quietly as a crouch down beside him, concern laced in my voice. He was sobbing, I didn't notice that at first, but he definitely was. No response. He just stared at the wall blankly. "Hey." I state more simply as I wrap my arm around his back in an awkward hug.

As I actually sat down beside him, he spoke. "So, I got a call today. From the hospital." His voice was soft and hoarse to the point I could barely understand what he had said. I couldn't help but feel my heart speed up out of concern and nervousness.

"Are you okay?" My breath hitched as I spoke and I couldn't help but feel a small amount of anger. If he had been worrying so much about my health when he should have been worrying about his own…

"Me? Yeah. Healthy as a horse, like always." His half-hearted attempt at a laugh only make the suspense more intense. I couldn't breathe as well as I should have been, I don't think he could either. What. The. Fuck. Happened.

"Well, you didn't do this over nothing." I reply. I started absent-mindedly running my hand through his hair. It was soft and had been recently washed. I don't remember hearing the shower running. Maybe he took one before I got up.

"My mom." He choked out. "S-she h-had a h-eart at-ttack." He gulped. "She died. She was in the hospital and no one told me! I didn't get to see her." Fresh tears fell from his face and I'm pretty sure I stopped breathing all together. Jean had never been very nice to his mother; it was something I had scolded him about on multiple occasions. A fact that probably made this situation a thousand times worse for him right now.

"You're going to be okay. It's shitty as all hell for now but it'll be fine. You're here. I'm here. We are both live and well. That counts for something right?" If I am honest, lying about my headaches seems to have been a good decision. He _really_ doesn't need that now.

It felt like ages we sat against that wall. He had stopped crying as quickly as he had started but he still just sat there blankly. Soon we were sitting each with our legs stretched forward, my hand now intertwined with his as his head rests on my shoulder. I'm not sure when the next time either of us even moved was. I had watched the sun go down before that though. One thing is for sure: I'm not finishing my essay.

(Jean)

After my conversation with Marco, I didn't really know what to do. I didn't feel like watching mindless TV and he would be too _busy_ so I settled for pacing around my room aimlessly until I could figure out what to do. I've become so used to this feeling it's pathetic. I can't wait for summer break. Being ignored and lied to is absolute hell. I love him, I do, but did he forget he is in a relationship or something? The idea is hard to swallow. He is always so mushy it's annoying. What the hell happened to that Marco? To be quite frank, it doesn't help that I am horny as fuck. Yeah, not going to lie. It's great that he is getting an education and stuff but what about me. I'm here too.

After what felt like a lifetime, I picked up one of Marco's favorite books he always wants me to read. I don't read all too much, I'm not a big fan of books. Not to say I'm some illiterate fool, I just rather watch a movie as it is more engaging. I don't really have much of a choice though. There is no way I can convince him to take a break. I saw that monster his professor considers an essay. 6,000 words, seriously.

I think I made it to chapter 5, a whole 60 pages before I lost track. I see why he had pushed it so much. I read the whole 218 pages cover to cover. While mulling over what I had just read, my stomach decided to make an appearance with the sound of a freaking bear. I guess I should see what Marco's up to. That would mean moving from this spot. Maybe I can wait. This bed is really comfortable.

I must have fallen asleep because I wake to the sound of my cell phone ringing. "Hello?" I answer groggily. "Jean?" I hear an unfamiliar voice question. "Yes?" That's the last thing I remember clearly.

The rest is a blur. I somewhat remember chucking my phone to a wall, along with whatever else I could find. I remember the tears blocking my vision and causing me to trip on the corner of the bed. I guess that pissed me off more because the sheets are off the bed. There is clothes everywhere too. I don't remember doing that though.

I think I hear Marco but I'm not sure. At least, not until he is right beside me. He smells so good. I can feel him sit beside my comfortingly. It was obvious he was concerned. What took him so long? Even still, I was barely able to tell him what had happened. I was just so… blank. I don't know how long he sat there saying meaningless things. I guess he realized the words weren't meeting my ears because the whole apartment fell silent. Hours passed by pretty slowly but I couldn't bring myself to move. He never said a word for those hours. He didn't need too. We watched the sun go down when I realized I'm still kind of hungry. "Marco?" I had spoken so quietly that _I _could barely hear myself. I had thought he might have fallen asleep and didn't want to accidently wake him.

He seemed confused as to if I had actually spoken. I said his name again. "Yeah?" You could hear the sleepiness thick in his voice. I was kind of weary to ask for that reason.

"How about those pancakes?" It was another one of our traditions. Whenever I was sick or felt like I do now, plus the occasional need for him to get back into my good graces, he always made chocolate chip banana pancakes. Always. Even at, say, one in the morning. He laughed slightly. "I could go for some pancakes."

We spent the next 20 minutes making pancakes. Or rather, he did while I simply whined that they take _way _too long to cook. I did my best to push today' events to the back of my mind by keeping things as normal as possible. It worked enough, for now.

After the meal, we headed to bed. I didn't bother to mention that I took notice of his completely unwritten essay. But later, when I kissed him for seemingly no reason, it most certainly was not for no reason.

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I'm a horrible person. I know. You should have been prepared.

(update: it's been over a month since I have posted anything. just writing this to say I had taken a sudden hiatus and new chapters of my other story along with some one-shots will be posted soon.

In another news update: for any story info, updates, and other random related things you can follow my Tumblr account.  
info about that: writingandfanfiction )


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